What's it about you ask?
Mason Storm is set to marry Veronica Chance in seven days. When he receives a mysterious text message he immediately packs and leaves without saying a word to anyone. After meeting with his former boss, Mason knows his past has finally caught up with him. In order to clear his name of false charges he returns home to
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Mason sat on the edge of the bed, pulled out the pre-paid, and stared at it for a few minutes, trying to think of the right words to say so he wouldn’t outright piss Veronica off. Eventually he tapped her number into the phone and hit call. He didn’t even hear it ring on his end.
“Yeah, Veronica, it’s me.” He shut his eyes, picturing her face, keeping him calm.
“Good thing you called, I was checking flights,” she said. He smiled, imagining the cute way her brow furrowed when she was ticked. “I need to talk to you.”
“Are you safe?”
“Yes, I’m safe…making headway.”
“I found something.”
“What?” His eyes popped open, body leaned forward and tensed. Paper rustled in the background.
“This Todd Jackson guy is on the evidence logs from the Masterson case—”
“Did you know he and Ben Carter worked together during your case?”
“A passing memory of it, but that’s not important.”
She huffed. “Well did you know there are only three business cards logged in from her purse?”
“Fuck.” Mason knew every single piece of evidence tied to the Masterson case. They accused him of stealing her clothing, the actual police reports, and the lipstick from her purse. The business cards weren’t even mentioned during his trial. More proof his gut was right. Someone was covering up Tiffanie’s murder.
“Yeah,” she replied, snarky. “Still don’t want my help?”
“I appreciate it, but no. I don’t. I’ve got everything under—”
“So you know the other piece of evidence that’s really missing that’s not in your case file?”
Mason sighed. She wasn’t giving up. Deep down he loved her more for it but wished she’d let it go. He’d never forgive himself if she became a target. “No, I haven’t even touched the Masterson file, Veronica. Tell me.”
“The first time we talked about it you said you sent a piece of her skirt with a blood stain to the lab. Well it’s not in the evidence logs or the final lab report. It never got processed.”
“Son of a bitch,” he spat, ran his hand over his skull. He was so screwed. “Anything else?”
“Not much else I can do from here.”
“It’s more than enough already. Thanks.”
“Don’t shut me out, Storm. You know I can help.”
“I’ve already got too much on my mind…you gotta let me do this my way. Give me a little more time—twenty four hours. If I’m not closer to figuring this out you’ll be the first person I call.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said. “I know there’s something you’re not telling me, Storm. I’ve never pried because I didn’t want to be that girl, but you’re not making this easy for me.”
“Please, Veronica, you have to trust me. I need to stay focused.”
“I won’t get in your way, Storm…be careful,” she replied, sniffled.
His gut twisted, but didn’t change his tune. “I will. And I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Hey. I love you.”
“Me too,” she said then ended the call.
The pit in his stomach increased, a frown creasing his mouth as he stared at the phone. Her attitude toward him was already changing, and not for the better. He had little time to resolve this and get back to his life before the rift ripped them apart.
Mason refused to let that happen.